And Time Goes On
by JayPratt
Summary: Time continues on after Sunnydale is swallowed up by the Hellmouth, but it's not always happy endings and good times. Spike will live many more years yet, enough time to meet re-incarnations of people he'd known before. People he'd loved before. The story will take a little while to get there, but hopefully you'll stick around


Disclaimer: I own nothing from the Buffy-verse. That is the privilege of Joss Whedon

It was ten years after Sunnydale was swallowed up by the Hellhole. After the Scoobies moved on and away from each other, slowly drifting apart as they grew older. Ten years of reaching out to new Slayers, bringing them into the fold and teaching them, setting them out on their destinies.

A long ten years for Buffy, lonely but not completely unhappy. Dawn had grown up, finished school and settled down into a routine with the new Watchers' council and her family in England. She'd gotten used to the weather, met her loving husband there and married there. Willow travelled with a varying array of Slayers, swapping them out every few months so they all experienced the witch's power and knowledge. Andrew and Xander travelled as well, being the main front bringing in new Slayers as the Coven found them.

Ten years of almost constant changes of faces drifting in and out of her life, Buffy never got too attached to any of the new Slayers, knowing they'd be permanently posted somewhere over the globe with their new Watchers. She'd kept her skills honed, training just as hard, and teaching when she wasn't averting apocalypses. But every now and then, the words of the Spike, from that long ago night in Sunnydale; "One good day".

That day came for one massive demon on a routine patrol with Buffy and two other Slayers. A roundhouse kick that didn't have quite enough power behind it, preceded the strong, stiff claws of the demon punching through Buffy's chest.

Her eyes widened fractionally, the two other Slayers charging in from behind to take down the great ugly demonic being, causing the claws to rip from where they were embedded in her chest. A short huff of red and spit tinged air flew from Buffy's mouth as she fell to her knees, axe falling from her hand to the damp grass at her side. The Slayers ran back to her, one barking out orders to the other and into a mobile phone as they moved swiftly, efficiently.

Buffy looked up at them, the movement slow, her eyes dimming as they watched.

"Buffy!, Buffy, stay with us! Jasmine will be here soon, she's just gotta-"

"One...good...day..." A sound they assumed was a laugh ripped from her throat, bringing with it more blood as her chest continued to seep into her shirt. "He...was right." She smiled gently as she fell forward, one Slayer catching her with a stunned expression.

"B-Buffy...?" The Slayer, Megan, looked down at the still and quickly cooling body of their leader then up at the other Slayer, Ash, as a bright light flashed to their right, signalling the arrival of their lift. With heavy hearts and numb fingers, the two of them lifted Buffy from the ground gently, almost reverently and headed toward the car that awaited them.

"Jeez, it's so fricken cold out here!" Jasmine stood stamping her feet as she rummaged through the boot of the car, looking for something warmer than her jacket. She turned as she heard the crunch of gravel beneath two sets of feet, about to ask where the other Slayer was. Her words stopped short in her throat, choking her as she saw the blonde between the two younger Slayers.

"She's...We couldn't do anything, Jas...She was..." Megan choked slightly as the tears finally broke free, the reality of their leader being dead finally starting to dawn on her.

"She seemed ready to go, Jas." Ash's words were soft but in the dark quiet night, they seemed to echo between the three girls."What...what do we do?" The three stood for a moment longer in the slowly lightening night before Jas moved.

"We need to take her back home. We have to tell her sister, let her know she needs to get back here as soon as she can. And..." She paused and inhaled a shaky breath. "And we need to get her ready to be buried. We can't let her sister see her like this." The three girls nodded to each other, the plan half made and in motion.

It was 6 months after her burial that Spike finally heard of Buffy's passing, he had been in Greenland when she had died, still there when the information finally made it to his ears. Andrew had tried hard to get in contact with him, knowing he'd want to know, that he'd _need_ to know that she was gone.

The night after he heard the news found Spike wallowing at the bottom of a valley, a mostly empty bottle of whisky in his hand and another two empty bottles sitting haphazardly by his feet. His face rose slowly as he sensed the sun rising, eyes watching the cliff face in front of him as it became lighter, sunlight starting to peek over the edge. He'd loved her. Loved her so deeply, and regretted so much of the last 10 years, regretted never letting Andrew tell her that he was alive. Regretted that he never got the courage to let her know himself.

He stood drunkenly, back resting on the rock he'd previously been sitting against, head raised, face toward the east, eyes closed lightly. The dried tear tracks on his face had cut through the dirt on his pale skin, his body completely cried out, he smiled softly as the sun started to break over the cliff edge. "They had their one good day, luv..." As he prepared himself for the burning sensation, that which he'd felt for her once before in Sunnydale, he heard a soft whoosh of air. His head tipped to the side, face finally turning from the light to fall upon a familiar face. It was one of the witches he kept in contact with in the local coven.

"Spike. She wouldn't want this, would she?" Her voice was not soft, but it was calming and seemed to wriggle into his mind. He laughed harshly and raised the bottle in his hand, taking a swift swig and wiping his hand across his mouth.

"She's been wantin' me dead longer than she wanted me near 'er...this'd be 'er last wish, I'd reckon." The witch watched him for a moment, as daylight continued to threaten his small patch of shadow.

"You know she didn't want you dead at the end of everything. She loved you in her own way, you just weren't there to see it anymore." Spike's head fell, staring at the line of shadow growing ever closer to his feet as the sun grew higher in the sky. "You must think about those that have been left behind now. Those who would benefit from your strength. Her sister, her friends, her watcher, her slayers. They need someone to fall back to for a little while. Can you be there for them? Again?" Spike's eyes flashed amber for a moment, the memory of the scoobies bringing her back from the dead that summer after Glory. He pressed back against the cliff wall, trying to move back from the sunlight, his death wish vanishing in the wake of his need to assure Buffy's peaceful rest.

"I can...I 'ave t'. Get me outta 'ere, Kim. I need t' speak t' Red. Get me t 'er." His slightly panicked eyes rose from the sunlight mere feet from his own feet to her own dark eyes. "Please, luv." She smiled and her hand snapped out and grasped his upper arm as the sunshine started to encroach on his black army boots.

"Of course."

AN: So, I know it's not really a lovey-dovey or all that action-y first chapter, but I promise that it's going somewhere. Slowly maybe, but eventually.


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